


Obscene

by silentdescant



Series: Snapshots [9]
Category: Pentatonix, Superfruit
Genre: Dancing, Dirty Talk, Humiliation, M/M, Prostitution Roleplay, Public Display of Affection, Sexual Fantasy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-06
Updated: 2016-10-06
Packaged: 2018-08-19 20:46:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 910
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8224298
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/silentdescant/pseuds/silentdescant
Summary: "What if I fucked you right here on the dance floor?" Scott asks. "What would you do? I bet you'd love it, all those eyes on you."





	

**Author's Note:**

> KINKtober Day 5: Humiliation

Mitch loses himself in the music, dancing in his own little bubble, only vaguely aware of the bodies on the edges of his space. The floor isn't packed tonight, and Mitch has enough room to hold his glass without sloshing it all over his hand as he moves. He throws his free hand up in the air, rubs his palm over the crown of his head. Another hand joins his, stroking down the back of his neck and curling possessively across Mitch's shoulder. Mitch leans into the touch, instinctively fitting his body against Scott's.

Scott tucks his hand into the collar of Mitch's shirt and Mitch rolls his head back against Scott's shoulder, leaning back enough for Scott to support his weight. Scott grabs his hip, grinds against his ass, and ducks his head to suck a kiss into Mitch's exposed throat.

"This is obscene," Mitch says, moaning when Scott scrapes his teeth over Mitch's skin.

"You're obscene," Scott replies. He takes Mitch's drink and sips it before handing it back.

They dance together until Mitch's glass is empty, and he quickly discards it on a nearby table before moving back into Scott's arms. He feels better, now that he's tipsy, now that his hands are free, now that Scott's beard is scratching his throat again.

Scott slides up to nibble Mitch's earlobe. He keeps his voice low, murmuring under the thudding baseline of the music. "Wanna fuck you so hard," he says. "Don't wanna wait."

"Bathroom?" Mitch suggests.

"What if I fucked you right here on the dance floor?" Scott asks. "What would you do? I bet you'd love it, all those eyes on you."

Mitch turns his attention to the undulating mass of people on the floor. No one is paying them much attention at the moment. Would they even notice, if Scott shoved his pants down right here, out in the open?

He can feel the hot length of Scott's cock hardening against his ass. It makes his mouth water.

"You're such a fuckin' show off," Scott tells him, his voice dripping like smooth Fireball, burning through Mitch's body. "I'd rather bend you over that table, where everyone can get a good look."

There's people at the table in question, now. A couple of older guys, maybe mid-thirties, and three smoking hot girls in very revealing clothes. Mitch wonders if they're prostitutes.

Scott follows his gaze, grasps Mitch's chin to keep his face forward, and says, "You think they know how desperate you are, baby? Can you picture it? If I spread you out over their table, right under their fucking noses. I think they'd love watching me claim you."

It's easy to imagine, with Scott plastered to his back and the taste of vodka sharp on his breath. Mitch is hard already, and he knows Scott's in the same boat.

"Such a slut, aren't you?" Scott asks. One of the men kisses one of the girls. There's no way she's not a hooker. Mitch stares at them and Scott's on exactly the same page, because he says, "Think he'd pay you, too? For the show? For the privilege of watching you get pounded right in front of him, close enough to touch. God, I wanna show you off. Show them how sweet your ass is, close up."

Heat coils in Mitch's belly and spreads like venom through his blood, warming his skin until it prickles with sweat.

"Would you let them touch you, baby?" Scott asks.

Mitch's cheeks burn. He turns his face away from the table and rubs his cheek against Scott's. "Would you let them touch me?"

Scott groans. "That's such a good answer."

"Would you?" He's surprised to find he's genuinely curious. It doesn't matter that it won't actually happen; his imagination has run away with the scenario, and Mitch feels like he's there, ass-up across the table, Scott at his back, cock ready and dripping.

Scott bites Mitch's ear hard enough to make him wince. The flush that stains Mitch's cheeks flares hot all the way down his throat and up to his forehead. Scott's voice is savage and rough when he replies, "Depends on how much they pay me."

It takes a few seconds for the words to sink in. Mitch's gut twists. "You'd whore me out?" he asks breathlessly.

"Tell me you wouldn't love it," Scott says.

Mitch's mind continues spinning the fantasy, imagining the gazes weighing heavy on his naked body. "I'd love it. I'd love it, _fuck_."

"Maybe I'd be too jealous, though," Scott admits. "Maybe I'd just give them enough for a taste, and then keep you all to myself. My slutty little plaything."

"Yes," Mitch gasps. He tosses his head back against Scott's shoulder. His cock is aching in his jeans and Scott's hands aren't wandering anywhere close to below the belt.

"God," Scott groans, "I just wanna take you right here. I'm so hard for you, baby."

Mitch turns around abruptly in Scott's arms and kisses him desperately. "Let's go home, then. I need you so bad. Fuck all these people, let's just go now."

Scott reaches down and shoves his hands into Mitch's back pockets, squeezing hard. He kisses Mitch again, drawing it out for long enough that Mitch feels lightheaded when their mouths part.

"As much as it pains me to deprive the masses of this beautiful ass," he says smugly, "I want you all to myself. Let's get out of here."

 

 _fin_.


End file.
